


Roads Divergent

by Tallihensia



Category: Smallville
Genre: AU, Drama, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superman rescues a young man, but the teenager, Lex Luthor, is not at all grateful. Beginnings are never easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roads Divergent

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [i think that possibly maybe i'm falling for you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/597003) by [Nicnac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac). 
  * Inspired by [Go Crows!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/651886) by [ciaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaan/pseuds/ciaan). 



> **Disclaimer:** Only mine in my dreams. This story was written for free entertainment purposes only and may not be reproduced for profit or altered without permission.
> 
>  **Warnings:** none
> 
>  **Spoilers:** none
> 
>  **Notes:** For the [Clexmas Remix Challenge](http://clexmas.livejournal.com/73820.html). Based on Nicnac918's ["i think that possibly maybe i'm falling for you"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/597003) using the age switch (Clark is older) idea (but not much else). Also sort of patterning Ciaan’s [“Go Crows”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/651886) in that it’s more of a glimpse of an AU world instead of a full out story.

# Roads Divergent

Clark nervously changed into his bright suit and prepared to go out patrolling. He'd only been doing this for a few months now. He'd made the suit while he was in college but hadn't had the nerve to put it on, doing his rescues in dark and blurred quickness. There were times he had to slow down, though, and he wanted to stop and reassure some of the people he rescued, so he needed a disguise, but he didn't want to be an object of fear. 

He ran a hand down his suit and winced just a little at how bright it was. He liked the colors, but they were designed to attract attention and that's just what he'd avoided for so many years.

Lois wandered into his room. "Aren't you ready yet?" She leaned on the doorway and wandered her eyes over his skin-tight suit.

Clark snorted and relaxed. "Still the wrong team." He grinned at his roommate.

"Nothing wrong with looking," Lois grinned back. "It's the only fringe benefit I'm going to get, after all."

"Thank you, Lois," Clark said sincerely. She was a fairly new acquaintance, his partner at the Daily Planet for two years now, but she'd figured out his secret with a speed that had him gaping. Investigative reporter, and luckily for him a very good person. Her aid in helping him had been invaluable, and she was great at covering up for him. 

She reached over and flipped the cape on the suit, straightening it out. "You look great. Now get out there and kill them!"

"Save them," Clark corrected with a grin. He glanced at the window and prepared to take off.

"Watch out for cameras!" Lois gave one last bit of parting advice.

Then he was out the window and flying around the city. Superman took a deep breath and released it, settling into his new role and guarding his people.

... ... ... 

Superman had rescued a few people from traffic accidents, broken up a few fights, and found one lost dog. It was minor stuff, but it felt good to be able to take care of the minor things as well as the major. He knew he couldn't do all of it – helping with everything would be beyond him. He was mostly okay with it too, but still... helping where he could felt good.

After flying in circles for an hour without anything more, Superman was almost ready to head back home. Two am and he did have work in the morning. Then he heard a scuffle, a shout, and he got there right at the gunshot. 

Speeding to the teenager the shot was directed towards, Superman grabbed him and moved him just out of range of the flight of the bullet, letting it hit the alley wall instead. Then he stood in front of the young man and faced the gunman, directing his heat vision to the gun, heating the metal so the man let go of it. He used to melt the barrels so the guns couldn't be used again, but then Lois scolded him, reminding him that police couldn't do any forensics work on it when he did that. No bullet analysis, no fingerprints, no convictions. He'd been more careful after that, only destroying evidence if he had no time for anything other than the brute force method.

When the man dropped the gun, Superman darted forward and pulled the guy's jacket partway down, tangling the clothes so it wouldn't be easy for him to get out. He'd thought about starting to bring along plastic zip ties, but this usually worked fine.

He paused to look around; there was a fight going on just outside the alley, but no more guns had been pulled. He glanced at the teenager. "Are you okay?" The teen had obviously been in a scuffle, with blood running down his shaved head, and his shirt rucked up and hanging off his skinny frame.

The young man bared his teeth angrily and growled at him. "Superman."

"Um, yeah... are you okay?" For a crazy moment, Clark wondered if he'd gotten the wrong criminal, but no, the guy with the gun was the one tied up and it was the young teenager who was furious at him. Which didn't mean he wasn't a criminal, but... 

"You're the asshole responsible!" The kid was almost spitting, he was so mad.

"Uh..." Mad he might be, but the kid didn't look badly hurt. The fight outside the alley was escalating. "I'll be right back."

He zipped over to the fight and pulled everybody away from each other, tossing them gently to various sides, making sure that he wouldn't hit any heads. He took an extra moment to make sure nobody had any knives or guns, and stood there a moment so they could see him and know he was watching them. It was a nice change from when he used to have to run away so not to be seen. Now, it was his presence that would deter them. He folded his arms and glared. When they looked up and saw him, their faces registered an 'oh shit' expression that was being familiar. 

Superman waited until they'd all seen and absorbed his presence, he spoke. "I don't know what this was about, and I don't want to know, but remember this: No fighting."

He paused one moment more, then went back to the alley. He put a hand on the back on the gunman's neck and prevented him from reaching for his gun. "Ah, a, ah..." he scolded. The jacket hadn't entangled him for as long as it should have. Maybe Superman would have to start carrying zip ties after all. That just seemed so... undignified. But then, what did he care about dignity.

Just then, a fist crashed against his jaw. He saw it coming from the corner of his eye barely a moment before it hit and managed to jerk back enough that the kid's fist wasn't broken. The teenager was obviously still hurt, though, bringing his arm to his side slowly and with control. The fingers very slowly uncoiled from the fist.

"You damn bastard!" The teen snarled.

This was not the typical reaction of people he rescued. Clark blinked and tried to recall if he'd picked this kid up before for anything else. Elegant features, handsome and almost sliding into feminine 'pretty'. The shaved head accented the face, drawing attention there. Clark tried picturing the teen with hair, but there was a reason changing hair styles was one of the most effective disguises – it was almost impossible without an artist to tell what he might have looked like any other way. 

The teen's body was skinny in that gangling way of somebody who'd just been through a major growth spurt. Was probably still in it – he couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Clark could only sympathize by recalling classmates – Pete and Shaun and some of the others. Clark had grown tall, but had always kept his bulk. His classmates attributed it to the farm work, though in hindsight, Clark thought 'alien' had more to do with it.

"What happened?" Superman finally asked, unable to remember ever meeting this young man before.

" _You_ happened! You shithead! You caused this!" The teen made a gesture over his head, indicating himself in a wide movement. 

There was no way Clark was this kid's father. They were maybe six, seven years apart in age, if that.

"Superman, it's good to see you here."

Clark jerked, his attention having been so focused on the kid that he hadn't noticed police coming into the alley. 

"This one had a gun?" The lieutenant was scanning the ground and surroundings, already having looked the people over. She didn't make a move to the gun just yet, leaving it where it was for forinsics. She did move over with her handcuffs, though, ready to take the gunman prisoner when Superman released him.

"Yes," Clark barely remembered to enunciate the word and keep it from becoming a 'yeah'. Superman was more formal in his speech. "He fired a round at this young man," he nodded at the teenager, "and it went into the wall over there." He pointed out the impact point. 

The lieutenant refocused her gaze on the teen. "Are you okay, sir?"

"I'm fine," the teenager said sullenly, crossing his arms. Then he winced and subtly shifted the pose until his left shoulder wasn't at the same angle.

The policewoman eyed the teen with resignation. "Sir, what lead up to this?"

There was a wooshing sound some blocks away. Flames being fed by oxygen, rushing out to where they could grow and expand, reaching to devour. 

Superman handed the gunman off to the lieutenant. "Fire. I have to go." He floated up, trying to get a handle on where the noise had come from. 

"Where?"

"Somewhere near Fifth, I think," was all that he had time for and then he was off to the scene.

As his attention changed focus, on the edge of his hearing he heard her mutter, "I wish he'd carry a radio, damn it!" and the sound of her pulling out her own to report a new issue.

... ... ...

Hours later, Superman came crawling through his apartment window, wearily hauling off the top of his outfit. He didn't want to be in it one minute longer.

" _Very_ nice view," Lois commented.

Clark grunted, walking to his room and into the shower, carrying the top and cape with him. Inside, with cold water rushing over him, he stripped off the rest and then scrubbed them as well as him. He didn't need to – the outfit shed all particles. It just made him feel better to wash it. Cathartic. 

When he was as clean as he was going to get, he turned off the water, wrung out the suit (which didn't need it, not having absorbed any water), and dried himself off. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went out.

"Every time you do that, I just keep thinking, "What a waste..."." Lois' eyes tracked him up and down, admiring and watching the water drops from his hair drip down.

Clark snorted and went to the refrigerator to grab a beer. "Any news on the people?" He saw the police scanner out by Lois' desk and the tv had the news up so it was a safe bet that she'd been following along.

"Five people treated and released, one hospitalized but expected to make a full recovery. They keep saying it could have been so much worse if Superman hadn't been there."

"Yeah." Superman made a difference, that's why he did it. Clark stared blankly at the dining room wall.

"What's bugging you, Smallville?" Lois maneuvered around him and got her own beer out of the fridge – a different brand than his, local brewery, more expensive. 

"I rescued a kid today... he hated me." The fire was normal. The fire was routine, the way his life went nowadays. But the teenager had made an impact. 

Lois sat down at the table and kicked another chair out for Clark. "All the world should fall at your feet and love you for Superman is awesome and wonderful."

"No," Clark sat, being careful of the towel. "I know that's not true. It just... it doesn't make sense. I saved his life – the bullet would have hit him. And I don't expect gratitude, I don't. It just..." The look of hate in the young man's eyes haunted him. He'd been thinking of it all through the fire. "He said I was responsible."

"Well, some people might think you were." Lois chugged her beer after the dramatic statement, giving him time to stare.

"What?"

Lois shrugged. "The kid is Lex Luthor."

Clark blinked, processing that. "Lionel Luthor's son? Shit." Superman's most outspoken critic, the most devious and ruthless man in Metropolis. White collar rich, he owned companies like some people owned shoes – one for every occasion and some just for the whim. Luthor also bent rules, breaking laws left and right and paying off lawyers and senators and judges to make sure he wasn't ever caught or convicted. He experimented with unsafe sciences, and had more than once tried to actually kill Superman... not that it could be proven that it was Luthor. Since Superman had appeared on the scene, Lionel Luthor had made it his goal to take the alien down.

The father, passing on the hatred to his son.

"Shit," Clark said again and pushed his beer out of the way to make room so he could lay his head down on his hands.

Bright blue eyes, flashing rage and resentment. A harsh frown, lines marring the near-pretty face. A rich voice, roughened with anger. A teenager who needed saving, but not from the likes of Superman.

With a sigh, he straightened up. "Isn't the son supposed to be in England? Some private boarding school out there?" There had been the faintest hint of an accent, now that he thought about it.

"He was. He got "sent down"." Lois made finger quotes with the words.

"Huh?"

"It's a fancy British term for "temporarily expelled". He'll be allowed back in a month or two, though my sources didn't know exactly when." 

Her sources. Clark glanced at the computer and the scanner. There must have been more information on who he'd rescued after he'd left and Lois had been checking into it. "What'd he do?"

Lois grimaced. "Not sure. School and media is locked down tight. But some of the social media net from his peers has rumors of an explosion in one of the labs..."

In spite of himself, Clark found himself grinning. Chemistry as a teenager was an incredibly tempting class. His dad told tales of _his_ chemistry classes where they actually got to play with the dangerous stuff and go and shoot off rockets and blow up a rock in a field or something. Classes nowadays were more safety conscious... but Clark had always thought it would have been more fun the other way.

"So you don't hate the kid?" 

Clark looked up to see Lois evaluating him. Baffled, he answered, "Of course not. Why would I?"

"Well, he is Lionel's son, and he did yell at you..."

Clark rolled his eyes. "That's no reason for hating anybody. Nobody should be held to account for something their dad did – or anybody else did for that matter. They only can be judged by their own actions. And," Clark hesitated, "and if he doesn't like me for it... well, that's not me. Maybe he can learn who I really am, and not just who his father says I am. I can't blame him, for believing his father. He doesn't know any better right now."

Lois raised a dark eyebrow. "Learn? Right now? Sounds like you're planning on meeting him again in the future."

It was Clark's turn to shrug. "If he's here in Metropolis with his dad... I'm sure we'll meet again." Clark just hoped it wouldn't always be with the accompanying hate. 

Then he remembered the words and he frowned. "Wait, what do you mean I was responsible? Responsible for what?"

"For his hair."

"What?"

Lois stared at him. "Don't tell me you didn't notice he was bald."

Blinking, Clark re-evaluated his initial impressions. "I thought he'd shaved it. He's... he's going through chemotherapy?"

"Nah." Lois waved that one aside. "Five years ago he and his dad were in one of the Luthor Corp labs when there was a fire. A lot of chemicals were involved, and some meteor rock... and the kid was in the hospital for a few weeks afterward. His hair never grew back."

"And he's still messing about with chemistry today?" was Clark's first response. Then the rest of it penetrated. "Meteor... Kryptonite?"

Lois nodded.

Clark sank his head back to the table again. "It is my fault."

With an accompanying snort, there was the sound of Lois tinkering with her datapad, and then Clark heard his own voice. _" Nobody should be held to account for something their dad did – or anybody else did for that matter. They only can be judged by their own actions."_

He had to laugh. "Hoisted by my own petard." He didn't raise his head, though.

"Come on, Smallville. It isn't your fault – it's not even your parents'. Who could possibly have foreseen that the explosion would have changed the rocks like that? Not to mention that you were already supposed to have been out of the solar system by then. The A.I. has told you that, your parents have told you that, and I've told you that. Now stop blaming yourself and get your head out of your ass!"

When she was right, she was right. Clark slowly sat up, placing his hands on the table and staring at the grain wood between them. He’d thought he’d gotten over that.

It was the kid. Lois was right, not everybody loved him – Lex’s dad was proof alone of that. And he didn’t want to be loved by everybody, really. He was content with his friends, and he saved people because he could save them, not to be liked. Heck, not even all the cops liked him, resentful of his presence and mistrusting his motives. So he was used to it. But there was just something in Clark that hurt at the thought that this young teenager would be one of them. 

Clark finished his beer, then went to the fridge and switched to milk. In the end, there wasn’t anything he could do. He only just be who he was and hope that someday it might make a difference. Who knew? Maybe he and the young Lex Luthor would even before friends someday. It was unlikely, but it could happen. Couldn’t it?

* * *

* * *

END

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to [my fic journal](http://alatrific.livejournal.com/46312.html).


End file.
